


A Delicate Deception

by likeatumbleweed



Series: The Brave and Happy Life of Loki and Sigyn [10]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Loki Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 12:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3650916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeatumbleweed/pseuds/likeatumbleweed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sigyn has been acting strangely distant, and Loki fears the worst. When he catches her in a lie and confronts her, what she has to confess is the last thing Loki expects to hear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Delicate Deception

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place around five years after the events of Illusion, timeline-wise. :)

Loki turns the small jar in his hand around again and again; he has scrutinized it so closely each scratch in the metal of the lid and flaw in the glass has been committed to memory.

Its contents – the contraceptive herbs Sigyn uses so dependably – tumble about inside, settling to the bottom when he rights it in his grip, mocking him with their very existence. He tries his best not to let it get to him, but with Ari growing by leaps and bounds, Sigyn’s persistent refusal to even _consider_ adding to their family is his greatest source of bitter frustration. 

The past month has made an already unbearable situation even worse. For the first time since his release from prison five years prior, Sigyn had refused his sexual advances not once but four separate times, blaming fatigue and general malaise for her lack of interest. When she _had_ consented, her demeanor had been noticeably less enthusiastic than normal; once, not even two minutes into the act, she had even apologetically inquired how much longer he was going to take. To a man who prides himself on his uncanny ability to not only meet but to exceed his lover’s every expectation in bed, that particular offense had stung more than the outright rejection. It was what had prompted him to search out the jar in his hand for reassurance – to allay his concerns that his wife is becoming… _disinterested_.

Finding it has not helped; if anything, its excess contents have confirmed his worst fears.

At breakfast, she had mentioned she was going to be in meetings all morning with Radi Bjornson and a few other diplomatic advisors about a potential conflict with the recently appointed ambassador of Midgard. Thor, in his ongoing preparation for the throne, would also purportedly be attending. Loki’s extensive knowledge would ordinarily allow him to take part in the discussion if he so chose; but, as this meeting involved the one realm for which Loki holds continuing and thoroughly reciprocated animosity, Sigyn had asked him to excuse himself. It was a request he’d had no difficulty agreeing to.

She did not, however, explicitly tell him he couldn’t seek her out for their midday meal. He decides they can talk over lunch; perhaps, with a little luck, he can even lure her back to their chambers to spend the rest of the afternoon putting their bed to good use. It’s worth a try, at least. With a turn of his hand, the jar vanishes, safely returned to where he found it.

* * *

The king’s council rooms are not only empty upon his arrival, but devoid of any sign of having been recently used at all. He tries not to worry as he seeks out his brother. He finds him alone in his newly appointed private office, just behind the throne room, brooding over reams of paperwork. 

“Good morning, Loki,” says Thor. He doesn’t even look up from his work to see if he’s correctly identified his visitor.

“How do you always know when it’s me?” asks Loki, more than a little impressed, even if he would never say it out loud.

“A thousand years spent in your company has taught me a trick or two. You’re not as enigmatic as you think you are. Not with me anyway.” He sighs loudly, tapping his fingers impatiently on the document nearest his hand. “This is the single reason I dread becoming king. Father is requiring my signature on more and more here lately. What I wouldn’t give for the comforting grip of Mjölnir rather than a pen.”

Loki settles into a seat opposite Thor’s desk, trying in vain to muster up the slightest amount of empathy for his brother’s plight. “When will it ever occur to you that I am the last person on Asgard who wishes to hear your complaints about the throne?”

“It was more a complaint about our father, Loki. I don’t believe for one moment you’ve grown weary of those.”

“Fair point. But I’m not here to discuss him. I’m looking for Sigyn.”

“Sigyn? I’ve not seen her since dinner last night.”

Loki involuntarily sits up straighter in his chair. There are very few people he trusts to be absolutely truthful with him at all times, his wife and his brother being near the top of that list. The disturbing realization that one of them has lied to him today – and that it is likely _Sigyn_ , of all people – makes his chest go tight. “That’s odd. She told me she had meetings to attend this morning, meetings you would be joining in as well. Is that not correct?”

“I hope not,” says Thor, finally pausing his incessant reading to look directly at his brother with concern. “Certainly someone would have come looking for me if that were the case.”

Thor would have no reason to make himself look so hopelessly inept as to forget a simple meeting; accordingly, Loki takes his answer as confirmation that it is indeed Sigyn who has lied to him about her whereabouts. For what purpose, he hasn’t a clue, but the very idea is disconcerting. Unwelcome thoughts of what else she might be keeping from him make his head spin, but he maintains his outwardly calm demeanor. “I suppose so. Perhaps I misheard her.”

“I’m sure that’s it.” He leans back into his chair and smiles, his uneasiness falling away. “Now, if you’re looking for something to keep you busy, I have enough reading material here to last you the rest of the day.”

Loki is already out of his seat before Thor finishes. “I’ll leave you to it, brother. You and I both know I would do a superior job – and I certainly wouldn’t want to give our father any reason to question his choice of successor.” Any reply Thor gives is cut off as the door shuts in Loki’s wake.

* * *

It is another full hour before Sigyn returns to their chambers, an hour that Loki spends pacing and fretting and conversing with himself in an effort to properly gather his thoughts.

She’s distracted when she walks in, her gaze distant in the way it gets when she’s puzzling over a problem. When she finally notices him, it’s obvious by the way her eyes go wide and her steps falter for the smallest instant that she doesn’t expect to see him there.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, rather curtly, before smiling and correcting herself. “Sorry…you just startled me. I didn’t think I’d see you until later.”

He had rehearsed what to say to her again and again while waiting, but seeing her makes all that preparation disappear. “I want to talk to you,” he spits out.

There is no surprise in her expression; she nods and Loki can see her throat move as she swallows hard. “Then come sit with me,” she says, moving toward the large sofa in front of the fire. “I want to talk to you as well.”

He lowers himself onto the cushion next to her cautiously; when he opens his mouth, he finds his remarkable powers for sensitive speech have completely abandoned him. The words are out before he can censor himself. “Are you still in love with me?” Any other time the amount of desperation in his voice would be humiliating, but in this moment he doesn’t care. He has to know the truth.

Sigyn’s mouth drops open in shock. “What kind of a question is that?” 

“That’s not an answer.”

“Of course I’m in love you! Why would you even ask me that?”

The sofa is suddenly too small for comfort; he stands up and moves to the hearth, bracing himself on the mantelpiece with one hand as he stares into the fire. “You lied to me about the meeting this morning,” he says, turning to look at Sigyn once more. “I went looking for you, and Thor said he hadn’t seen you since yesterday.”

Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t try to deny it. “I had a meeting, just different from the one I told you about.”

“Why would you lie to me?” 

“I can explain –“

“You haven’t been yourself lately,” he interrupts. “It’s worrying.”

“I’m quite aware, more than you know. Something has been weighing on my mind.”

“And you can’t talk to me about it? Let me help you. I’m not incompetent.”

“I’ve never thought you incompetent. But, when it comes to certain topics you can still be rather… _daunting_.”

“Is this about Midgard?” he asks with a scowl. _Not those damned humans again. I’m beyond weary of those loathsome creatures encroaching on my happiness._ “I can set my personal grievances with them aside if I must –”

She can’t repress a tiny grin in response to this. “No, you can’t. And it’s nothing to do with Midgard anyway.”

He relaxes ever so slightly. “Well, what is it then? I’m at a loss, darling.”

She takes a deep breath. “It’s about having another baby.”

He doesn’t know what he was expecting her to say, but it wasn’t this. It was something he’d warily considered when he’d first been freed from prison, always with a hesitation to burden yet another being with the blue skin of his true nature and the undeserved scorn and scrutiny that came along with it.

But when Sigyn’s brother and his wife had started their own family, Loki had been forced to watch as Edmund had awaited the arrival of his firstborn in giddy anticipation. Having been denied that pleasure himself with Ari, Loki had been struck with a bitter envy so intense it had been all-consuming. And so, not long after Ari’s second birthday, Loki had suggested to Sigyn that they’d waited long enough and that they should try for another child.

But instead of eagerly agreeing, Sigyn had surprised him by asking to postpone the decision a bit longer. To his exasperation, it was a response she hadn’t deterred from once in the four years since – _a bit longer, Loki…perhaps when Ari is a little older…maybe…maybe…maybe_ – no matter how often or gently he’d brought it up. For her to broach the subject herself is astounding.

“What about having another baby?” he says, affecting a tone of cautious optimism, even though his brain is simultaneously ecstatic and alarmed. “I’ve been led to believe it’s not a subject you wish to discuss.”

“When you first seriously asked me about growing our family, yes, my initial reaction was one of apprehension, and for so long I didn’t understand why. After a time I realized the awful truth was…” She pauses, chewing on her lip, and when she speaks again her voice is much softer. “I was scared you would leave me again. It terrified me to think I would end up raising _two_ children alone instead of one.”

It’s almost physically painful to hear her say this. He moves back to the sofa to kneel before her in supplication, taking her hands in his. “Do you not trust me, Sigyn?” he pleads. “You, of all people?” In this position, bent to her in obeisance, he looks as though he’s begging. He supposes in some way, it’s exactly what he’s doing.

“I trust you with my life, Loki. The worry that you will not stay is no longer something that concerns me.”

He knows he should be comforted by her answer, yet he isn’t quite satisfied. “You say that, but you continue to deflect any discussion of having another child. Why?”

“What if it didn’t work?” she says with a shrug, an attempt at nonchalance that belies the fear in her eyes. “What if Ari was an anomaly we couldn’t purposely recreate? I couldn’t bear the thought of finally agreeing to try, only to face your disappointment month after month, year after year, ad infinitum – until you eventually grew tired of my useless womb and found someone else to bear you another child.”

“How dare you even suggest such a thing,” he says, dropping her hands and heaving himself to the sofa beside her. “To insinuate my love for you is so _fragile_ that it would disappear over something this inconsequential –” he shakes his head and makes a face as though he’s smelled something foul, “– it’s frankly insulting.”

“But it isn’t inconsequential to you. It’s all you’ve talked about for over four years now.”

“All right. Yes, I talk about it frequently,” he admits with a sigh. “And make no mistake, the thought of having another child with you, of experiencing a pregnancy alongside you, of giving Ari a sibling to grow up with…it’s a thought that brings me immense joy. But my love for you is not conditional upon your ability to conceive.”

“I didn’t say I was being reasonable, only that it was something I worried about.”

He notes her word choice and continues carefully. “ _Worried?_ But no longer?”

“No longer. Unfortunately, I’ve let all of my decisions about this be ruled by fear. That’s not healthy for me, nor is it fair to you.”

“So all your fears and worries have been proven incorrect or set aside. Then why do I feel as though you’re pulling away from me?” He reaches to put his hand on her leg, and the chasm between them seems immense.

“I’m sorry, my love. I never intended to make you feel that way.” She looks at the floor, and when she speaks her voice is no more than a rasp. “I have to tell you something, and I’m afraid you’re going to hate me for it.”

His stomach is queasy, and he can feel his breathing get faster. “Hate you? What in the nine realms could you possibly have done to make me hate you?”

“I’ve kept something from you. I know I should have told you, and I know it was wrong…but I stopped using any contraception twelve weeks ago.”

His eyebrows knit together in confusion and he opens his mouth to speak, but she continues before he can interject.

“I knew if I told you, it would become your sole focus. And if it took longer than you expected, or – Norns forbid – if it didn’t work at all, that you would become increasingly difficult to live with.”

It’s a harsh truth, but one he can’t argue against. She knows him too well.

“It was selfish of me, I know,” she continues. “But I didn’t want that kind of pressure hanging over me if there were complications.”

_Complications._ The word rings in his ears, rapidly solidifying itself from abstract concept to inevitable certainty. He can already sense where this conversation is going, and he doesn’t like it at all.  _Of course there will be complications_ , he thinks.  _When has anything I wanted ever come easily to me?_

“I did lie to you about the meeting this morning,” she says, and to her credit she looks suitably contrite in the confession. “It’s not something I’m proud of, and I hope you can forgive me. It was only because I had an appointment with the healer that I wanted to keep secret. It was carried out with the utmost discretion, and she confirmed what I already suspected –”

His heart drops. _So that’s it_ , he thinks. _She can’t conceive and she didn’t want to tell me._ He raises his hand to cut her off and hurries to reassure her. “We can try again, Sigyn. It’s only been three months. Surely there’s something we can do to increase the chances…a spell or something –“

She shakes her head. “No, Loki – you don’t understand. That’s not necessary.”

“Why not?” he asks, nearly in tears from a frustration that makes his voice crack. “You would give up so easily?”

“Give up? What – no.” She takes his hand in hers. “It’s not necessary because…it already worked.”

He blinks at her, not certain he understands what she’s saying. “What do you mean?”

“I’m pregnant, Loki. Nine weeks as of this morning.”

“Pregnant.” He says it slowly, as though he’s never heard the word before, as if she’s speaking a foreign language and he’s trying to suss out the meaning through context.

She stares at him, her mouth pinched and her eyes wide, holding her breath in worried anticipation.

He sinks back into the cushions and raises a hand to his mouth, rubbing his lips absently as the news sinks in. “ _Pregnant_ ,” he says once more with finality, before a sharp laughter bubbles up into his chest and makes her start. He smiles then, so broadly it makes her recoil, before grabbing her head in his hands and pulling her to him to kiss her thoroughly.

She sags like a limp rag into his embrace, and at last he understands just how anxious she must have been to tell him.

He gently pulls away. “ _That’s_ what you were afraid to tell me?”

“It was deceitful of me, and knowing the circumstances behind Ari’s conception, well…I didn’t want you to feel as though you’d been tricked into anything. In preparing for the worst possible outcome, I hadn’t adequately prepared myself for the best.”

“I must admit, for someone so steadfastly honest, you’ve demonstrated an impressive amount of guile.”

“Well, I have an excellent teacher.”

“I suppose you do,” he says, acknowledging her gibe with a raised eyebrow. “But you haven’t tricked me into anything I didn’t want. In fact, in this moment…” He sinks to the floor in front of her once again in wonder and awe, putting his arms around her waist and his head in her lap. “I can’t believe it. Beloved, I’m so damned happy I feel fit to burst.”

“As do I,” she says as she kisses the top of his head, and he can feel the tremble in her body and hear the tears of joy in her voice. “Though…it’s more happiness tempered with a fair amount of nausea and lack of appetite. And worrying about telling you hasn’t really helped in that regard.”

Loki's eyes widen with understanding and relief. “Is _that_ why you’ve been holding me at arm’s length?" he asks, looking up at her.

She merely nods in response.

"Well, thank the Norns – I was beginning to fear my ordinarily infallible powers of seduction had begun to fail me.”

“Not at all, love,” says Sigyn with a smile, stroking his cheek with the backs of her fingers. “It isn’t from lack of wanting, but rather a distinct desire to keep my food in my stomach after I’ve eaten it. I didn’t think you would find it particularly attractive if I vomited in the middle of sex.”

He wrinkles his nose in disgust. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.”

She grasps his head in her hands and leans down to touch her forehead to his. “If you would just be patient a little longer, though, the healer said the sickness should dissipate within the next few weeks. And if memory serves from my pregnancy with Ari, that dissipation was followed by a near-incessant yearning the likes of which I’d never experienced before, made infinitely worse by my lack of a proper bed companion at the time.”

His smile fades a bit at the unwanted reminder, and he growls softly. He puts his head back in her lap. “I do hope your need for a proper bed companion didn’t cause you to take an improper one out of desperation,” he says petulantly.

“It didn’t. I resigned myself to a cold and lonely bed, with only my hands to keep me company when I was at my weakest. I’m so grateful that won’t be the case this time.” She runs her fingers through his hair before sliding her arms around his shoulders and resting her head on his, cocooning him in her embrace; Loki can’t remember the last time he felt so safe and secure. All the worry and fear he’d held in just moments prior evaporates like a puddle in the sun.

“Are you happy with this news, Loki?” she asks. “Truly?”

He shifts to put his ear to her still-flat belly and imagines the tiny being within, its heart like the flutter of a bird’s wings, and he finds it difficult to swallow around the newly formed lump in his throat. “I don’t have the words to express it, Sigyn. It’s a singular talent you have, the ability to leave me speechless.”

“If I knew the secret, I could sell it for a high price. There are a few people I know who would pay dearly to have that power over you.”

“It’s not much of a secret, beloved. It’s simply this: just when I think I’ve got you all figured out, you find yet another way to surprise me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I intended this to just be a drabble expanding on some headcanon I had about Eidr's conception (and Sigyn being uncharacteristically sneaky for once), but as usual, it ended up much longer than I'd planned. :D


End file.
